


and darkness will be rewritten

by lucyprestons (leviosaphoenix)



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 16:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14023767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leviosaphoenix/pseuds/lucyprestons
Summary: Jiya's new symptoms have some dangerous consequences.Loosely post 2x02 - minor spoilers.





	and darkness will be rewritten

**Author's Note:**

> [blows dust off laptop keyboard] 
> 
> Hi all! Welcome to my first adventure into Lucy x Wyatt fic. Just something short and rough to work through the writer's block that I've had for over a year now - for those of you following my Arrow story, I will hopefully have an update in the next couple of weeks after my beta has helped me whip the last two chapters into shape. 
> 
> I entirely blame my best friend Courtenay for this one. Not only have we created a Lucy x Wyatt playlist on Spotify that is agonisingly painful (https://open.spotify.com/user/12159770374/playlist/6CRkpKIyxtDrcYiru8ZZzK), immediately after I watched 2x02, she asks 'what if Jiya sees something happen to Lucy in a vision??' and four hours later, here we are. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Lyrics and title from I'll Keep You Safe by Sleeping At Last.

_Dismiss the invisible_  
_By giving it shape_  
_Like a clockmaker fixes time_  
_By keeping the gears in line_  
_Don’t be, don’t be afraid_  
_God knows that mistakes will be made  
But I promise you I’ll keep you safe_

 

The first time it happens, Jiya brushes it off.

Rufus’s arm is stretched out to her, burned flesh peeling away as if someone were holding an invisible flame to it. He doesn’t flinch, just looks at her questioningly when she backs away in horror. She writes it off as a hallucination, albeit a strange one. God knows they have no idea what kind of side effects to expect after her brief stint as a time traveller.

He’s obviously fine, and goes off on the mission with the others. And she almost, _almost_ forgets, at least until she catches him bandaging his arm later. He is too busy berating himself for his clumsiness to notice her face pale a shade at the realisation that he’s been burned.

It has to be a coincidence.

* * *

The second time, it’s not danger she senses.

Instead, she is chatting with Wyatt in the boys’ bedroom when the world goes a little fuzzy around the edges and he is suddenly immersed in a book; she can make out the words _20th Century America_ on the front cover. Lucy appears at the door with a bright smile, and Wyatt shoves the book under his pillow with superhuman speed.

Wyatt’s voice cuts through the haze, and he frowns at her as she pulls herself back to reality. She blames Lucy’s restless night and her resultant lack of sleep, and she can tell he doesn’t quite buy it, but he seems much more eager to discuss why, exactly, Lucy is having trouble sleeping.

Jiya tells herself it’s impossible, later that evening, when she sneaks into the boys’ room after Lucy and Wyatt walk out, Wyatt still with a hint of a blush on his face. She reaches under his pillow and her fingers touch something solid, heavy.

Her heart sinks a little as she pulls out _Important Figures in 20th Century America_. Apparently her diagnosis is about to get a little more complicated.

* * *

She is helping Lucy get dressed for a mission, a pale green flapper-style dress perfect for the Roaring Twenties. The sequined fringes glitter softly in the dim light of their makeshift wardrobe department, and Lucy’s dark curls are pinned up into a black headband with a big black rose on the side.

“How do I look?” Lucy asks with a grin, twirling so the dress flares out invitingly with the movement. Jiya’s witty response, however, melts away as she watches a dark patch of scarlet slowly spread outwards from a hole in the front of the dress, and then Lucy is falling…

“Jiya? Jiya!”

Hands cover hers, and she looks up into Lucy’s warm, expressive brown eyes, concerned but reassuringly calm.

Jiya glances down at her own hands, sees herself grasping the mint-colored fabric, which is immaculate and unmarred by bullet holes.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” Jiya says, hurriedly letting go of Lucy and taking several steps back. “Uh, I thought I saw a spider on you. There could be all kinds of gross creepy-crawlies living in this bunker.”

She excuses herself and escapes as fast as she can, rushing to find Rufus even as she realizes she has no idea what to say to him, where to even begin, but instead it is Wyatt who she sees relaxing on his bunk.

She opens her mouth, but the room is already swaying, and the warm light fades. Wyatt is still sitting there, but he’s wearing his military dress uniform, his face blank and his eyes cold. His hands are pulling at loose threads of a dark blue sweater, one that Jiya could swear Lucy was wearing just yesterday. Wyatt looks up and scowls, _“I don’t want to hear one more person tell me that they’re sorry.”_

There’s a flash of white, a terrifying glimpse of him with blood all over his hands and shirt and tears of grief in his eyes, and then he’s standing right in front of her, catching her as she trips forward.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Wyatt demands, alarmed. He helps her to sit down on Rufus’s bed, but she’s gasping, fighting back tears and an overwhelming wave of dizziness. “Do you want me to call a medic?”

Jiya shakes her head, frantically. “You can’t let Lucy go on this mission.”

His eyebrow lifts, but he doesn’t dismiss her. “Why?”

“I can’t explain- you’ll think I’m crazy.”

He gives a wry, sideways smile. “My job is to chase time-travelling psychopaths through history. Nothing is crazy anymore.”

Swallowing hard, she glances towards the door to make sure they’re not overheard.

“After I went with you guys in the Lifeboat, I came back a little… different.”

He nods. “The seizures?”

“I’ve been seeing… things. I saw Rufus burn his arm.”

“He did burn his arm,” Wyatt points out.

“No,” she says, frustrated. “It was before. One minute I was just talking to him, and then I looked down and his arm was burned, and then it wasn’t. Then he came back from the mission - same arm, same burn. And you! I saw you reading that book, the one you got to impress Lucy. Then you hid it under your pillow.”

Wyatt ignores her jibe, squeezing her shoulder. “Jiya, I think you’re getting a little confused.”

“I’m not, okay!” she exclaims. “I’m not. I know what I saw. Lucy’s in danger. She’s going to get shot in the stomach, and she’s going to die. And if there’s even the tiniest part of you that thinks I might be right,” she continues, searching his face, “is it really worth the risk that I’m not?”

He is silent for a moment, thinking over her words.

“You really did see that book?” he asks, quietly.

Before she can answer, Lucy breezes in and Wyatt jumps to his feet. It’s almost comical, the way their orbits align when they’re in a room together, each completely oblivious to the effect they have on each other.

Jiya knows, though, that if anybody has a chance of protecting Lucy from the future - past? - that she’s seen, it’s this Wyatt, the one who gazes at Lucy like she hung the stars in the sky.

* * *

Agent Christopher has the final say, refusing both Wyatt and Jiya’s protests about Lucy’s need to travel.

“Unless the two of you have something you want to share with the rest of the class,” Lucy says, “can we just get going?”

She looks exasperated, annoyed even, which isn’t the expression she has had lately when it comes to Wyatt Logan. Jiya gives up, trading anxious looks with Wyatt, and she realises with a swoop of nausea that he’s wearing the shirt she’d seen so briefly, crisp and white now, but undoubtedly fated to be stained with blood by the time they return.

The Lifeboat disappears, and Jiya rushes to the grimy, shared bathroom, getting sick in the toilet until her eyes burn. She wonders if that was the last time she’ll ever see her friend alive, and even as she tells herself she should have told the truth, she knows that Lucy is too stubborn to allow anything to get in the way of her mission to stop Rittenhouse.

It’s a tense few hours, dragging long into the night, and Jiya sits shakily at her station, calculating pointless equations in an attempt to drive the image of Lucy’s bloodsoaked dress out of her mind.

Finally, she feels the breath of wind that forewarns the arrival of the time machine in the bunker, and then the earth is shaking and papers are flying and she’s out of her seat and waiting for the door to open, completely incapable of speaking.

Rufus stumbles out first, gasping. “We need a medic!”

Jiya moans, feeling like the breath has been torn from her lungs, and she looks up at Lucy, who is as pale as a ghost with a scarlet stain across her stomach.

“Help!” Lucy calls. “It’s Wyatt. He-” she trails off with a cry of raw anguish, and Jiya catches her at the bottom of the steps, her mind struggling to catch up.

_Wyatt?_

The soldier is lifted from the Lifeboat, his sleeves drenched crimson as he holds a scrap of fabric to a gaping wound in his abdomen. He’s barely lucid as his eyes fall on Jiya, and he gives her a lazy smile.

“I protected her,” he says, the sounds tripping out over each other like he’s forgotten how to make them, and then he promptly passes out, and Lucy dissolves into sobs.

“Emma, she… the gun was pointed at me. I didn’t even know he was there,” she cries.

The next few hours are excruciating. Helpless and locked out of the makeshift operating room, the team gathers around in the girls’ quarters, Lucy wrapped up in Wyatt’s sweater while Jiya leans her head against Rufus’s chest. He fills in the blanks for her, quietly - Wyatt had been glued to Lucy’s side, overbearing to the point where she had snapped at him, and less than ten minutes later he was tackling her to the ground and taking a bullet meant for her.

Jiya silently curses herself, loathing her visions, wishing she had found another way to save them, because trading Wyatt’s life for Lucy’s is not a trade she would choose to make in twenty lifetimes.

It’s ten in the morning when Agent Christopher appears in the doorway, deceptively bright sunlight streaming in, punctuated by the whirring blades of the industrial fans.

“He’s okay,” she says, and the anvil sitting on Jiya’s chest lifts.

By unspoken agreement, Lucy goes to see him first, and Jiya falls back onto her bed, exhaustion finally taking over as the looming threat of loss draws further away. She dozes, fitfully, until Rufus wakes her with the promise of lunch and a backrub, thinly-veiled ploys to get her to open up about what had had her so distressed earlier.

She agrees to tell him, but asks to speak to Wyatt first.

The Master Sergeant is sitting up against a mountain of pillows, surrounded by wires and machines that are the only hint that he is anything less than fighting fit. There’s a plastic armchair pulled right up by the bed, and Lucy is curled up, fast asleep, her hand grasping his.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Jiya says quietly, then wrinkles her nose as she realises how wholly inadequate that statement is for how she’s feeling. “I mean, I never wanted you to put yourself in danger. If you had- if anything had happened, I never would have forgiven myself.”

Wyatt smiles slightly, his eyes flickering down to look at Lucy before he meets her gaze again. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her safe,” he offers, simply. “Thank you. Your warning gave me that extra split second, and it made all the difference.”

She returns his smile, and her vision melts away at the edges.

This time, she sees Wyatt and Lucy sitting side by side on his bed. Lucy’s palms are cupping his jaw and she’s wearing his shirt, and he’s smiling and they’re leaning in, lips connecting as he grips her waist and pulls her closer-

Jiya returns to the present with a jolt, her eyes wide with embarrassment.

“Um. Gotta go,” she declares, jumping to her feet.

“What happened?” Rufus asks from the doorway behind her, and she spins around to face him with a conspiratorial grin. She gestures backward at Lucy, who has just started to blink away the fog of sleep, and Wyatt, who immediately forgot their presence the moment Lucy started to stir.

“Let me put it this way," she grimaces. "Next time these two are alone in a room together, we will definitely need to knock.”


End file.
